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THE ROYAL BALL

T he castle was an island at the center of the city lake, encircled by a cape of rose trees.

It was a summer castle, a castle that had never seen war.

It had been built with aesthetics in mind, rather than defense.

Waterfalls plunged down its polished stone walls, sparkling in the evening sunlight.

Its towers were white, rimmed with gold.

The lawns that surrounded it were a beautiful shade of green, too perfect to exist in nature.

It was a castle of luxury and excess, not battlements and bloodshed. And it must have taken an exorbitant amount of labor—both physical and political—to keep it that way.

I walked across the ornamental drawbridge toward the castle, my arm linked with Nero’s.

Sierra skipped ahead of us, the puffy pink skirt of her party dress bouncing with every hop.

She wore glittery silver slippers and a sparkling silver crown.

She bore the gigantic crown with natural ease, like she was destined to rule an empire.

I had higher hopes for her. I hoped she would live a happy life free of politics and drama, out of the spotlight. It was a grand, optimistic wish, given that she was my daughter.

“Leda Pandora, the Angel of Chaos!” the herald at the door announced me, surely to the delight of all the party guests. I mean, who wouldn’t be thrilled by the arrival of ‘the Angel of Chaos’ to a formal royal event?

I made to move past him, but he put out his arm like a gate to stop me. Apparently, he wasn’t finished with me.

“Also, the Goddess and Demon of Telepathy,” he continued, his loud, booming voice still going strong.

“The Angel of Purgatory, Angel of the People, Angel of Hope, Angel of the Plains of Monsters, Angel of the Earth.” He kept going, his wind power impressive.

“Daughter of Faris, King of the Gods. Daughter of Grace, Queen of the Demons.”

Finally, he took a short, measured breath. He didn’t even look annoyed by all of my titles. He just did his job like a true professional. But we weren’t done yet. He still had to do Nero.

“General Nero Windstriker, the Chief Marshal and the Executive Officer of the Legion of Angels. The Slayer of Traitors, the Victor of the Crimson Coast, and the Destroyer of Darkness. The former Angel of New York and the former Angel of the East Coast of North America. Son of the Immortals Cadence Lightbringer and Damiel Dragonsire.”

The herald turned a prospecting glance on Sierra.

“She’s good,” I told him.

“This is a royal ball, madam,” the herald said stiffly, clearly offended. “No man, woman, or child may enter until I have announced them with all their titles.”

Madam? Wow, way to make me feel old. I was tempted to correct him, to say that ‘madam’ should actually be substituted for ‘your holiness’ or some such, but I was afraid he’d start over with all the title announcements and add that one on too. He had said all titles.

Instead, I deflected. “Sierra is three. She doesn’t have any titles yet.”

Well, unless you counted ‘Savior of the Universe’, but that was just speculation at this point and certainly not official.

“Hmm,” was all the herald said, but he let us go with a quick, “Sierra Pandora Windstriker, daughter of Leda Pandora and Nero Windstriker.”

Well, almost.

His gaze dropped to Angel, and he frowned. “Your cat will have to wait outside.”

“Why?” I asked.

“This ball is for royalty only,” he said with an impressive amount of ego, especially for someone talking to two angels.

Things really were different on this world.

“Angel is royal.” I gave my giant cat a rub behind her ears.

“Oh?” he said, looking skeptical.

And when I provided him with my cat’s titles, that skepticism elevated into mild annoyance. But he didn’t turn away from his sworn duty.

“And Her Royal Pussycat Angel Pandora Windstriker!” the herald declared loudly. “Chaser of Mouse Tails and Slayer of Dust Bunnies!”

His duties fulfilled, the herald waved us along, glad to be rid of us.

Sierra and I entered the ballroom giggling.

Nero followed behind us, looking as serious and dignified as always.

Angel looked quite dignified herself, descending the stairs like a queen, her nose lifted high in the air, her tail swooshing with elegance.

“You are not taking this seriously, Pandora,” Nero whispered to me.

I linked my arm with his. “Sure I am.”

“Chaser of Mouse Tails and Slayer of Dust Bunnies?”

I snorted.

“Angel is a great warrior,” Sierra told him, very serious. “She won many battles. She wants titles too.”

Nero looked like he didn’t know how to argue with her logic. Meanwhile, the herald was announcing Aspen. She was soon standing beside us.

“Ok, now we just need to wait for Cupid and Dreamcatcher,” I told her as Angel and Sierra went to go chase down a server for snacks. “They’re preparing the next phase of the plan.”

“Which is?” Aspen asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lavinia said sharply, cutting in. “Whatever it is that you’re planning, it won’t work.”

I folded my arms over my chest and gave her a serene smile. “You only say that because you don’t know me.”

“The Angel of Chaos, Goddess and Demon of Telepathy…” She made a derisive noise. “Is all that supposed to impress me?”

“I don’t waste my time trying to impress people like you, Lavinia,” I countered, still smiling.

“ Princess Lavinia,” she said with an acidic smile. “Since we’re naming titles.”

“Very well, then, Princess Lavinia.” I grabbed a champagne glass off a passing server, then lifted it in the air. “Cheers. And may the best princess win.”

“Don’t worry,” she simpered, looking overly fond of herself. “I will.”

I glanced at Aspen. “I see what you mean about her. Good thing she’ll never be Queen.”

“I heard about what happened at the notary,” Lavinia hissed.

“But Aspen having her paperwork in order won’t help her.

She missed the deadline. The Committee members have already convened.

They’ve already selected the candidates for the Court.

So everything you’ve done to help Aspen—everything you’ve done to meddle in our affairs, outsider—is for nought. ”

For nought? Did people actually talk like that nowadays? Apparently so, on Planet Royal.

I smiled back at Princess Unpleasant. “We’ll see.”

Lavinia humphed, then pivoted away, her skirts swirling after her.

Angel was back, and she looked pretty tempted to attack those skirts.

“Best not,” I warned her. “You might get cooties if you touch her.”

Angel sat back down on her hind legs, sulking.

“Snacks?” Sierra asked, holding up a plate.

“What did you find?” I asked her, taking a closer look.

“Chocolate.” Sierra showed me her teeth. They were coated in melted chocolate.

“Good idea. We need to keep our energy up.” I took the chocolate ball she offered me. “It is going to be a long night.”